Cold Lioness
by QKat
Summary: Young Liona is perfectly happy to be a puppet of the Dark Lord.
1. Tara

_The closet... Why wold he send me in the closet... and why is this man here? _She feels rather nervous, mostly taking her que from Caith, knowing he doesn't scare easily, and his face showed panic... She doesn't have to wait long to see what is causing her husband's panic. Quirell turns around, his turban already removed. Tara's heart seems to stop. _Caith... Help me... I can't breath..._

Voldemort's disfigured face grins at her. "He won't come for you."

Tears well up in her eyes. _Please... _She falls to her knees.

Voldemort speaks with her for sometime, then she is taken away.

* * *

Tara is tied to a table in a dark, dank room, screaming and crying out in pain. It's been about nine months, her skin has lost almost all its color, as she hasn't been allowed to see the sun, and her child is coming. Many spells over the past few months have only added to the pain of this process, as Voldemort never had any cares for her comfort, only cares for the child's strength. In the midst of her last push, she passes out... yelling for Caith with her last breath.

* * *

A few hours later, Tara is allowed to hold her newborn daughter. She stroaks the wisps of golden blond hair that matches her own and looks deep into her eyes that look so much like Caith's. Tears stream down Tara's face. "Liona... my little baby... I'm so sorry. I never wanted this to happen. I should've known better... He's Voldemort's son, of course he wouldn't..." She stops short, hearing footsteps.

* * *

Tara's wrists are soon covered with scars from her own nails, she's not one to have any form of happiness without the outside world, but Lucius made sure to keep the young young woman alive, his master's plan required her to live at least until her daughter was old enough to know what was going on.

"Momma... whewe's Daddy?" A two year old Liona is becoming curious about her situation.

Tara sighs, holding her daughter close, trying to treasure each moment with her, knowing they don't last long. "He left us..."

"But I thought garmpa took us 'way..."

She nods. "Daddy did nothing to stop him... nothing at all... and he hasn't looked for us, either..."

Liona blinks, then snuggles closer to Tara. "I sowwy, momma..."

"Sweetheart, don't apologize. It's not your fault."

Liona shakes her head. "S'not fow that..." There's a hint of red in her eyes before Liona tranforms into a lioness and rips into her mother's chest, spilling Tara's blood onto the basement floor. She walks up the basement stairs, leaving behind her a trail of her mother's blood.


	2. Much to Learn

Liona sits in her room, fitted with just about anything she could want... Lucius has spoiled her... She's painting her nails with bright pink polish, covering her mother's blood which is still stuck under her nails. She hums quietly.

Draco walks to her door, noticing the trail of blood leading there... "What happened here?"

Liona blinks, looking up. She's not used to Draco being around. "Momma was didn't wanna be alive anymowe. I hewped hew." Her eyes are unnervingly calm.

Draco raises his eyebrow, not sure he understands, then shakes his head and goes to find Lucius.

A few minutes pass in which Liona finishes painting her nails, still humming sweetly, then Lucius walks into the room with her, shutting the door behind him. "Liona, what did you..."

"I wet hew sweep."

Lucius blinks and leaves Liona alone, following the trail of blood.

* * *

Liona's little eyes light up when she sees Voldemort. She runs to him. "Did ja get him? Did you kill Harwy?" 

Hours after aquiring his new body, Voldemort has come to retrieve his granddaughter. His grin face answers her question, though if he were thinking of the child, he would wonder how she knew he'd tried.

She frowns. "S'ok, grampa. You'll get him next time."

He blinks down at the three year old and grins, though his defeat has left him still quite a bit disappointed. He cups a hand over her shoulder. "You have much to learn, little one."

She nods excitedly.


	3. Boredom

This chapter is a bit closer to the happenings on the Catclaws RP site... if there are any questions, feel free to ask... I might leave something out...

* * *

Liona spends about a month at her grandfather's side, soaking up his habits and knowledge like a sponge. She quickly learns the difference between speaking to him in public and in private, and other such restrictions... though getting used to not getting her way all the time wold take more time then Voldemort could spend on her. 

When certain circumstances cuased the dark lord to leave for the United States, he brought the child with him. She spent her fourth birthday exploring a strange death eater's house as Voldemort prepared to leave for the American wizarding school, Catclaws, desguised as a student... leaving Liona with a loyal follower.

* * *

Liona walks around the strange house, quite calm, as the only person she's ever truly feared left days ago. Though his absence means she feels free to follow her every want, it also means she has a very disturbing lack of things to do. The month with her grandfather was filled with death, quite a few of those deaths were her own doing. _Why couldn't I go with him? I can be quiet... _

"You know, little one, you don't have to be hunting down muggles to have fun... even if it does help..." Lorcan's young voice would send chills down any normal child's back. He spent four years locked away in Azkaban before he was simply allowed to leave. He got his mark less then a year before Voldemort's fall... his release wasn't his own doing, Lorcan would have gladly stayed in his cell awaiting his master's return...

Liona looked on Lorcan with cool eyes, "I don't need your help."

"Of course not. I simply wanted to give you a few sugestions."

She snorts slightly, then turns away. "Not now."

He bows his head. "My apologies, Miss. Riddle... though... there are a few things that your grandfather wanted me to show you... once you got a bit settled in..."

Liona turns back to him, quite obveously skeptical. "Didn't say anythin' to me..."

"He spoke with me, I'm not sure if he thought you were ready to..."

"I'm ready!"

He tilts his head slightly, smirking while his face is out of the child's veiw.

* * *


End file.
